


Song Of A Spider

by FreyaPhilomath



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Gen, One-Shot, Sherlock (BBC) - Freeform, Sherlock (TV) - Freeform, prose
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-08
Updated: 2015-10-08
Packaged: 2018-04-25 10:01:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4955998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FreyaPhilomath/pseuds/FreyaPhilomath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim Moriarty is always seen by himself and others as a spider.  But, if one listens carefully, the spider will sing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Song Of A Spider

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is my first one-shot, just looking into the depths of Moriarty's character. Hope you enjoy, and constructive criticism is appreciated! :D

The lithe creature, elegant and deadly, crawled across the alien surface, his advanced vision paving a crystal clear path. Its mind was wickedly beautiful, a beautiful web of thoughts and knowledge, with him at the centre. In his own mind, he is the king, ruler of the logical delirium, eye of the storm, emperor of evil. With an intellect as sharp as ice and emotions like marble, he controls everything and everyone, from incorruptible civil servants to the deformed obscenities of the criminal underworld, all of them, were some way ensnared in his silken web. Not all knew they were there, that is both a blessing and a curse, for his world was a dangerous place. It is a world of power, riches, innermost secrets and darkest desires, and nothing, be it mosquito or butterfly can ever escape.

It’s anyone’s guess as to what will be devoured whole with reckless, ravenous abandon, and who will be savoured, pulling the pieces apart slowly, teasingly, until there is nothing left but a totally destroyed insect. Regardless however the spider chose his prey; it would be worth every venomous bite.

Rain fell as the man clad in a grey coat stepped out into the London street, the sky grumbling its misfortunes on slumped human shoulders. As the others deployed their umbrellas in a synchronised salute, he made no movement, he only relished the feeling of the water droplets running down his face and limbs, he enjoyed the feeling of his skin moistening and growing pale with the cold. He carried on walking, long domineering strides that separated him from the masses, yet he was perfectly ordinary in appearance. Instinctively, the crowds parted slightly, as if they could smell the danger the man radiated, yet none of them knew why. None of them would question it though. They all had enough things to worry about. They were all so _ordinary_. The man smiled at this, sensing their stifled fear, drinking it in like a narcotic. That’s what made his web so easy to spin, fear that they would always dismiss with their own ordinary thoughts, believing that they were more important. _Oh, how wrong they are,_ the man thought to himself as he reached the bleak underground station. He took a moment to smooth his inky lines of hair in the fluorescent lights then bought a train ticket from a handsome woman with the hair the colour of autumn. As he left with the ticket and moved towards the train, the woman couldn’t help but shudder. It was his voice that alarmed her, at first it seemed like an ordinary Irish accent, but there was something unnerving about it, the way it seemed to fill the room and simmer with malice, it almost sounded like silk, or a cats purr, or the song of a spider.

The stranger glided onto the sleeping beast that was the London train, the monster unaware that it housed a parasite. Here, the man was surrounded by angels, but he was the darkness that resided in their hearts. Maybe this world was theirs, for now, but maybe that will be where he will cast his web next…


End file.
